


Fire, Fire, Burning Bright

by imthealphanow



Series: Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: ALL the tags, Aftermath, Angst, Fluff, Hurt Derek Hale, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nogitsune Trauma, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt, fuckyesstilesstilinski, idk man, season 3b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 04:56:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1538426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imthealphanow/pseuds/imthealphanow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just one big misunderstanding. Stiles has a shitty time, and the only place he is happy is when he is at home with a certain someone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire, Fire, Burning Bright

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: Stiles goes to a bonfire and possibly gets elbowed in the nose but just wipes the blood on his sleeve. then when he goes home Derek's lurking around and kind of freaks cause he smells like blood and smoke. I hope I filled it okay battykid!
> 
> I would just like to say that the title is from William Blake's 'The Tyger', which I'm currently studying. I know I changed it slightly. I do what I want.

Beta'd, as always, by the lovely [Lydia](http://www.iwouldlovetohave-thesex-withyou.tumblr.com). My tumblr is [here](http://www.fuckyesstilesstilinski.tumblr.com) if you want to have a prompt of your own filled!

 

 

Stiles isn’t sure what makes him feel so much like a stereotypical American teenager. It might be the unbranded red cup he’s holding, or the fact that he’s at a party in the woods in the holidays, surrounded by other teenagers who are mostly hammered or at least getting there.

He should probably know better by now, in his experience, being in the woods at night always seems to end in a giant fuck up of epic proportions. But still, it’s been well over a month since anything serious has happened, besides from the Brownie infestation a couple of weeks ago, and Stiles just wants to feel like a normal kid, dammit.

He’s had enough of monsters and hunters and pain and anxiety and fucking hell, he just wants to be normal for a couple of hours. That’s all.

So. Here he is.

The drink in his cup is unidentifiable, but if Stiles really had to guess he’d say it was some kind of vodka, energy drink, and coke mixed together. It’s vile, but everyone else seems to be downing it easily, and he doesn’t want to be left out (like always) so he holds his breath and downs the rest of the cup in one, before wandering back to where the drinks are located and pouring himself some more.

There are two girls, one obviously drunker than the other, making out with each other next to the table. If Stiles was a lesser person, he’d probably stay and watch, but he doesn’t want to objectify them. He’s also not really been into the whole girl thing for a couple of months now. The appearance of a certain sourwolf and their consequent conquests together have meant that instead of long flowing locks Stiles now pictures himself threading his hands through short dark strands, feeling stubble on his inner thighs. Not that he tells anyone that. Even Scott doesn’t know. Plus, Stiles has a list of unobtainable crushes, and he’s just adding another name to it. There’s no point talking about it when it’s obviously not going to happen.

It’s cold out in the woods. It’s the beginning of September, so he’s kind of surprised, and his hoodie really isn’t good enough to stop him from shivering. He can see a couple of guys with their shirts off a little way away, and he can’t help but feel goose bumps when he looks at them. They must be freezing, but then again they may have had copious amounts of alcohol to drink.

Stiles leans against a tree, sighing as he stares into the bottom of his cup. He may be hanging out with the most popular girl in the year more often now, but he’s still a total nobody to the rest of the school. When it was just him and Scott, everything was great, because he knew that Scott was just as lonely as he was. Then everything happened, Scott became popular, and Stiles just sort of feels like he got… left behind. Sure, he’s mostly useful when it comes to research, and figuring things out, but let’s be real, he’s not part of the pack, nor is he doing anything that Lydia, or anyone else couldn’t do just as easily. He just seems to… hang on. He’s not really that useful at all.

Snap out of it. Stiles shakes his head, trying to get all the negative thoughts out. This was why he came out to this stupid party in the first place, to get away from the creeping feelings that have been getting worse and worse since his possession and- well. He misses her every day, and what makes it even worse is the fact that it’s his entire fault and he knows it. Everything that happened, the explosion, the deaths, the chaos. It’s all on him.

Shitty pop music starts blaring out from somewhere, to the enjoyment of many of his classmates judging by the happy howls. Stiles can’t take the cold anymore so he makes his way towards the massive bonfire set up in the middle of the clearing.

He’s starting to feel the effects of the disgusting drink now, his limbs feel simultaneously longer than usual and disconnected. There’s a buzzing in his head and he can’t quite decide if it’s a good or a bad thing. Whatever. He doesn’t care.

It rained the night before, so the fire is smoking like crazy, which, coupled with the many idiots standing round smoking cigarettes like their going out of fashion, means that Stiles probably _reeks._ But he doesn’t really care, he cares more about getting his stupid hands warm, and so that is what he concentrates on.

Standing about three metres away from the bonfire is close enough; the heat coming off it is insane.

The group of guys who were shirtless are now hanging round the fire, shoving each other around and generally being loud and annoying. Stiles shuffles a few steps away from them and instead stares into to flames whilst nursing his drink. The fire reminds him of the time they were at the motel, and Scott almost killed himself. Stiles almost killed them both. Again.

It comes out of nowhere, one moment Stiles is staring into the flickering warmth and going over everything he’s ever done wrong in his life, the next there’s an elbow in the middle of his face, catching his nose and possibly getting the most painful part of his face. Fucking fantastic.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Bilinski!” a guy calls out, and there’s laughter. He recognises the voice; it’s someone from the lacrosse team. Of course he wouldn’t be particularly sympathetic when he knows how much of a retard Stiles is. Stiles thinks he’s about to faint, and curls over, clutching his nose.

Almost immediately, he can feel the hot warmth of something that can only be his blood dripping into his palm. Of course, of course he would manage to injure himself enough to bleed when he’s trying to go out and enjoy himself. Suddenly, the party isn’t as fun anymore, and Stiles just wants to go home. He doesn’t know why he came out anyway, it’s not like he would have someone to talk to. Scott is round Kira’s house, and it’s not like he’d stay with Stiles anyway.

His hoodie sleeves are covered in his blood from the nosebleed, so Stiles just accepts defeat and shrugs the thing off, pressing it to his nose. He stumbles off, past the bonfire and onto the well worn path that leads to the main road. He doesn’t live too far away, and he didn’t drive because he knew he’d be drinking.

The walk home is cold, and the blood on his hands is tacky and reminds him of what he did to coach. Stiles staves off the imminent panic attack and carries on, until he’s reached his house. It’s dark, like it so often is these days. With so few people still alive in the Beacon Hills police force, his dad is working more often than not. It’s only eleven pm; his dad won’t be home for another six hours at least.

The one thing that makes Stiles feel better is the fact that his nose bleed has seemed to have stopped, although the throbbing in the middle of his face is as harsh as it was when it first happened. All he wants to do is just have a long shower and roll into bed and sleep, what he should have done in the first place. He bets no one even noticed he left the party.

He unlocks the back door and lets himself inside, not bothering to switch any light on until he gets to his room so he doesn’t have to wander all the way around the house turning them off again. When he turns the light on however, he yells in surprise.

“Derek? What the hell are you doing here? In the dark?”

Derek is sitting on his bed, looks like he has been for a while judging from his expression. He starts to talk, and then stops and looks more closely at Stiles.

“What the hell happened?” He demands, standing up right and striding towards where Stiles is leaning on the door, covered in his own blood.

“You smell like- oh my god, what happened? Stiles tell me, what’s going on, oh fuck.”

Derek’s expression changes from angry to scared in a matter of seconds.

“What? Nothing happened! I just went out and got accidentally elbowed. It doesn’t even hurt that much. I’m fine.”

Derek looks paler than normal. “Are you sure? You smell like… you smell like-”

It hits Stiles then that he probably stinks of blood and smoke. Smoke. The one thing that’s probably ingrained into Derek’s skull forever. He’s so insensitive.

“I’m fine Derek, really. I just went to a party and they had a bonfire going, that’s all. It was an accident.”

Derek swallows and then hunches over, sitting back down on Stiles’ bed.

“I’m sorry Derek,” Stiles mutters. He’s a horrible person.

“It’s okay.” Derek looks up and obviously sees the disbelieving look on Stiles’ face. “Honestly. It just… I wasn’t prepared for it. It brings back memories I’d rather keep locked away. Can I help you?”

Stiles blinks. He wasn’t expecting that. “No… no I’m fine. I’m just gonna shower and take some Tylenol for the- you know.” He gestures vaguely at his face. “I just wanna sleep, to be honest.”

Derek sits up, and holds out his hand. “Come here.” He says, jerking his hand impatiently when Stiles doesn’t move in confusion.

Stiles slowly makes his way over to the bed, and sits down, facing Derek.

“I’m just gonna-” Derek leans up and places his hand gently on the side of Stiles’ face. “Is this okay?”

And fuck, if this isn’t something Stiles hasn’t dreamed about before. The two of them, sitting close together on his bed, Derek lightly stroking his face. All that needs to happen now is that Derek kisses him and then his dream will be complete. Wordlessly Stiles nods and then he can feel a strange pull under his skin, a nice feeling, and slowly the pain lessens.

He stares right at Derek, and the atmosphere feels heated, and Stiles can’t breathe properly but he doesn’t ever want the moment to end.

Slowly, Derek takes his hand off of Stiles’ face. “Thank you,” Stiles whispers quietly, and Derek smiles at him.

It’s only small, but it lights up Derek’s face and fuck it if Stiles’ crush hasn’t gotten a million times worse in the last five minutes.

“I’m just going to shower now,” Stiles says quietly. “Um. You can stay here if you want?”

The moment is broken, and Derek leans back again, allowing Stiles to get up and go to the bathroom.

He showers quickly, but the entire time he berates himself for being such an idiot. He kinda wants to jerk off after what just happened, but he doesn’t know if Derek stayed or not, and he doesn’t want to risk Derek finding out.

When he gets out he pulls on an old ratty t-shirt and a pair of pyjama bottoms before inching back into his room. Surprisingly, Derek is still there, in his leather jacket. When Stiles walks in again his head snaps up and he visibly takes in a deep breath. His shoulders relax. “You smell much better now,” he says, and Stiles laughs awkwardly.

“Well thanks, big guy. Um, is there anything you need? Can I help you?”

Derek looks startled. “Not really. It can wait another day.”

“Okay…” What does he do? “I’m gonna crash now. Do you want to stay?”

Derek suddenly looks relieved. “Please.” It’s weird; Stiles would have thought Derek would want to leave as soon as possible.

“Well, I can make up a blow up mattress for you, but it’s kinda late so…”

“Do you mind if I stay with you? I just. I need to be close to someone right now.” Stiles gapes for a moment, before getting a hold on himself. Sourwolf? Has feelings?

“Sure. Sure, do you want to share the bed? It’s kind of small…”

“Thank you.” Immediately, Derek pulls off his shoes and jacket, revealing a maroon Henley. He seems to dither for a moment before unbuckling his jeans and pulling them down. Stiles has to look away and talk to himself very firmly, it would be good to get a boner in this situation. He turns off the main light as a distraction, leaving only the glow of a bedside table lamp.

Derek stands there for a moment before Stiles makes a motion that means ‘after you’ but could just look like a nervous twitch. Nevertheless, Derek slides into the bed, and Stiles follows.

Derek is crazy warm, and this is everything Stiles has ever wanted, this moment. The only thing that would make it better would be if Derek started spooning him.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?” Stiles says quietly. The silence is so strung out, Stiles doesn’t think Derek will answer him.

Finally he sighs. “Today’s the anniversary of Laura’s death. I didn’t want to be alone. I just… I feel more comfortable with you.”

Fuck his life. Even when he’s trying to be considerate Stiles still fucks things up.

“I don’t mind. You can stay here as long as you want.”

There it is, that little smile again. It makes Stiles feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“Thank you.”

The words are quiet. Stiles uses them as a cue, and reaches over to turn off the light. He stays facing that way round, not wanting to move and irritate Derek too much.

He’s trying to quieten his breathing when suddenly he feels an arm around his middle. He tenses up for a moment. “Shh. I’ve got you,” Derek’s voice says in his ear, and Stiles instantly relaxes. He can’t believe it. Derek is actually spooning him.

Derek is warm and solid around him, and he feels amazing. The exhaustion and the unhappiness Stiles felt earlier slowly flows away until his eyelids begin to shut, and there’s no way he can fight them.

“Goodnight Derek. Thank you.” He says groggily, just as he’s about to drop off.

He doesn’t hear a response, but he does feel a kiss, on the top of his head in his hair.

Stiles falls asleep smiling.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody. I had a sudden flow of people reading my fics this weekend (like, out of the blue. I still have no idea what happened) and I felt really bad about not being able to update because I have really important history coursework in on Wednesday. I also got this tumblr prompt on the weekend, so I thought I wouldn't let you guys down completely and I'd complete it! I hope you guys liked it, I had fun writing it:)
> 
> Please comment/kudos/subscribe. Any fan art or stuff would be unbelievably appreciated! Love you all!


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